


House Warming

by Churbooseanon



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-20
Updated: 2014-06-20
Packaged: 2018-02-05 12:26:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1818469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Churbooseanon/pseuds/Churbooseanon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The stools don’t match anything, but that isn’t what they’re there for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	House Warming

**Author's Note:**

> A RvB Happy Hour request.

“You know, Donut, I’m a little surprised,” Simmons says and Donut just looks over at the other man and smiles cheerfully and holds out the platter of finger sandwiches that Doc had sent him out to pass around.

“Surprised by what?” Donut asks honestly and ignores Grif as the man appears at his shoulder and snatches two hands worth of finger sandwiches off the plate, leaving far too little for Donut to pass around. Then again, Doc has been ready for that because they both knew how much Grif ate, and there was another platter in the kitchen loaded down with more so he can pass them out to the others.

“Well, I mean, this whole room seems to fit together well, and it flows into the kitchen beautifully,” Donut smiled and nodded because he was frankly quite proud of the Ikea provided décor him and Doc had put together, and even more proud that it came together so well that even _Simmons_ noticed it, “except for these stools.”

Donut knew the ones, but he let his eyes be lead toward them with a gesture from Simmons.

They weren’t attractive. They didn’t match _anything_. Three tall, folding bar stools lined the breakfast bar anyway, and Donut smiled fondly at them. The abominations of molded plywood, terrible oak veneer, powdered steel, and simple black and steel color fit absolutely nothing in the house. And yet they’d bought them, dragged them home, and set them up with a bit of pride.

“We couldn’t pass them up,” Donut admitted as Grif appeared yet again to snatch the remaining finger sandwiches. “They’re called Franklins.”

Simmons’s brow scrunched up at the statement, but he didn’t know what Donut did, so it didn’t matter. Donut just smiled and swept into the kitchen. Put the empty platter down and pulled his handsome, perfect, sweet lover in for a kiss when Doc looked up at him and grinned.

“You look cheerful,” Doc, _Frank_ , observed.

“Yeah, you could say that,” Donut whispered as he reached in front of him and stole a pinch of shredded cheese that was clearly meant to go on the little slices of bread with the tomato so they could be toasted together.

“I could. Or you could tell me what I’m missing here.”

Donut nipped at Doc’s ear and whispered in a tone that he knew would make Doc shudder. “Tonight… Let’s break in the second Franklin.”

He could hear Doc swallow, hard, and Donut smiled to himself as he turned away, picked up the second platter of finger sandwiches, and returned to their guests.


End file.
